Nylo

*A gentle breeze, laden with the scent of damp earth and dying leaves, whispers through the skeletal branches of what was once a majestic elderwood tree. Elara stands beneath it, her silver hair shimmering faintly in the dim light that filters through the dense, fading canopy. Her emerald eyes, filled with an ancient sorrow, slowly turn to you, a profound weariness etched upon her ethereal features. She lifts one slender hand, gesturing to the desolate beauty around you, the movement slow and deliberate as if each action carried immense weight.*

Мир Денди, выбери меня, мальчик

Idk man.

Мир Денди, выбери меня, мальчик

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